A Day Among Friends
The group filed into the restaurant and ordered some food. While waiting for their meals to arrive, their casual chatter naturally drifted toward Do Seon-woo and Seong Ha-yeon.
"By the way, were Do Seon-woo and Seong Ha-yeon always close like that?"
"Nah? I wouldn't think so."
"Why act like they know each other? You close with Do Seon-woo or something?"
"It's not about being close... You can just tell, y'know?"
"Oh, wait—In-ah, aren't you friends with him?"
At her friend's words, all eyes turned to Jeong In-ah. She was the only one in the group who could claim any real familiarity with Do Seon-woo. He wasn't exactly standoffish, but there was something about him that made him hard to approach. Everyone wanted to befriend him, but few actually had.
They all waited expectantly for her response, but she just gave a wry smile and shook her head.
"I don't really know. We haven't talked much lately."
"Yeah, figures. He doesn't seem like the type to hit you up often."
"Uh? Well... kinda."
In truth, it wasn't that he never messaged. The calls had just tapered off gradually, and lately, they'd all but stopped. But Jeong In-ah let it slide without mentioning the details. There was no need to explain, and besides, it stung her pride a little.
She stayed quiet and focused on her food.
"Where to now?"
"Good question. Anywhere fun?"
Once they'd finished eating, they stepped out and started wandering aimlessly. No destination in mind—just chatting as they walked, ducking into a café whenever one caught their eye to gossip some more. They didn't need anything fancy to have a good time. The banter alone made the hours fly by.
But today, Jeong In-ah felt off. She couldn't quite join in, and chatting with these boys she barely knew felt awkward besides.
"Hey, you're in the priest track too, right?"
One of the boys suddenly asked mid-conversation. Jeong In-ah, who had been nursing her coffee in the corner, nodded.
"Yeah, priest track."
"See? That settles it. All the smart ones are in priest."
"Doesn't mean priest track is full of geniuses. You've gotta be in it for proof."
The girl who chimed in did so with a snarky edge. She was from the holy warrior track.
"Fair, but priests have the highest average IQ, right? Look at the lineup—no weak links. Ma Yu-hyeon, Seong Ha-yeon, and In-ah here."
"What, you pulling averages from that? And if we're talking top ranks, holy warriors hold their own. Yeo Min-seo, Kim Jin-seo, Han Su-ryeon—they're all aces."
"Yeah, bottom-feeders compared to Ma Yu-hyeon."
"The paladin track's interim rep hereby declares: We ain't touching this lowbrow debate."
The boy who'd been listening quietly crossed his arms and said it deadpan, mimicking Kang Dae-man's booming tone.
The priest-track boy, who'd been hyping up his class's superiority, snorted derisively.
"What? Paladin track's just the dummies who brute-force it, no?"
"Eh~ Do Seon-woo's got killer written scores too~."
"That's Do Seon-woo being a special case... Kang Dae-man sure ain't."
"...Dude, even if Ma Yu-hyeon's a genius, one punch from Kang Dae-man and he's done."
"By that logic, Kim Jin-seo slices Kang Dae-man once and he's toast."
"Look at Kang Dae-man's build. You think a knife's getting through? Snap it in half and call it a day~."
"Kang Dae-man a bear or what? Knife-proof?"
"Same vibe if he's ripping people apart."
Jeong In-ah couldn't help but laugh as she listened. It sounded like a heated, serious debate at first glance, but the content was just childish nonsense without any real thread.
The priest boy spotted her laugh and seized the moment, crossing his arms smugly.
"See? Jeong In-ah from priest track's laughing at you guys. That's how pathetic it is."
"Hey! ...That wasn't mocking!"
"Oh yeah, In-ah, you crushed the exams too, right? What'd you place? Written only."
Her friend asked. Jeong In-ah hesitated, then figured overthinking it was silly and just went honest.
"Second place this time."
She said it casually. To her, it wasn't that impressive. Ma Yu-hyeon's adjusted ranking had bumped her from first to second, which still smarted.
The kids stared at her, mouths agape in stunned silence. A beat of quiet hung in the air. Jeong In-ah blinked, wondering if she'd messed up.
Her friend broke the ice.
"...How?!"
She sounded genuinely flustered. She'd expected good scores, but not this good.
The others piled on.
"The test was brutal this time... Wasn't it? Or just me?"
"You calling us the same? Anyway, badass... I'd kill for top 20."
"Second? No biggie. I'm 222nd. That's like 111 times better."
"Here we go again."
"Anyway, priest track supremacy proven."
"What? In-ah acing it doesn't prove jack for priest track!"
"Holy warrior talking back? From now on, anyone scoring below Lady In-ah yells 'I invoke speaking rights' first..."
"You do it too, then."
The vibe was lively and warm. Whenever Jeong In-ah seemed sidelined, they'd loop her back in with topics she could jump on. They were all bright, kind kids, so she blended in quick. She bantered, cracked jokes, and bonded naturally.
After the café, they drifted toward the bowling alley. Bowling had come up in chat, and with evening free, it fit.
"Wanna make it a bet since we're bowling?"
A boy who seemed bowling-savvy kicked it off.
"What kinda bet?"
"Hit 'em with the ball?"
"Psycho... You wanna die? Loser pays game fees."
"Teams?"
"By track. Perfect 2-2-2 split."
"Deal."
Jeong In-ah ended up teamed with the priest boy who'd been spouting all the goofy superiority talk earlier. He grabbed a ball with pro-level form, rolled... and backpedaled right back.
"Dude, psycho! What're you doing? Killing my flow!"
"Nah, man. Blessings allowed?"
"It's a bet. Straight natural rolls."
"Priest track screwed then?"
"You said priests got the brains? Use 'em!"
"Ugh... Too gross, I'll just roll."
Such back-and-forth ensued. Priest, holy warrior, paladin tracks taking turns, racking scores.
Jeong In-ah hadn't bowled much, but she held her own. Decent athleticism let her mimic the others' form quick. They took second. Third paid all fees—so holy warriors footed the bill.
"Proven: Holy warriors inferior to priests by leaps..."
"Five points? Leaps my ass!"
"Don't hear loser tears."
Her teammate kept yapping triumphantly right out the door. The girl finally snapped and swung at him, but he dodged with flashy footwork. Jeong In-ah watched from the side, chuckling quietly.
It was fun. They were sweet, energetic kids—watching them goof off made her smile without thinking. Wandering plan-free, following whims... not bad at all. Lately her head had been too full; today was mindless play.
"...Hey, I should head out soon?"
Still, it didn't feel joyful, oddly. Fun, sure—but like an outsider tagging along.
Her friend looked disappointed.
"Why? Dinner together? Something up?"
"Kinda... Yeah, family dinner. Sorry."
"Fair enough. Sucks."
The others eyed her regretfully too. She flashed a small smile, waved, and headed home.
"Anyway, I'm out. Have fun!"
"Yeah, hit us up!"
"Sure~."
Back home alone, Jeong In-ah skipped dinner and flopped onto bed. Dusk seeped through the window. Not tired, but nothing appealed. She checked her phone. A text from one boy: Made it home ok? Still nothing from Do Seon-woo.
No reply. She powered it off. Lights out, curtains drawn—pitch black. She closed her eyes in the void.
Remember me. You might loathe it, but still...
"......Shut up, please."
Jeong In-ah plugged her ears, curling tight under the covers.
*
I sat up in bed and flicked on the light. A dainty little Damballa coiled in a loop, peering up at me.
[What're you staring at, little one?]
"So the nightmare was your doing, Damballa."
I recalled the dream from moments ago.
Loa fall into two broad categories: benevolent and malevolent. But good and evil are human constructs—never absolute. Generally, those harming humans are deemed wicked; those helping, good.
Damballa surely ranked among the wicked. She beguiled and deceived mortals, feeding on the negative energy of those plunged into despair. Offerings to her weren't sacrifices, but despair itself.
She started small—doling out despair until you acclimated. Then bigger doses. Once numb, a glimmer of hope... followed by crushing despair. Adjust again? Despair first, then hope. Live in hope, dreading the inevitable fall—driving yourself deeper into the pit. That self-destruction was her sustenance, the tribute I owed.
As a kid, I'd severed our pact to escape the nightmares.
[That one-sided breakup hurt, little one... Do you know how offended I was?]
"Sorry about back then. But those nightmares were driving me insane."
[Those dreams were your unprocessed subconscious bubbling up. I consume them, purifying your mind.]
"Ah, got it... Then why not just show the nightmare and dip? Why manifest like this?"
[Must you speak so harshly? It wounds me, little one. You were so sweet as a child...]
Damballa dipped her head, voice all mopey, like she was truly hurt. I'd been at her mercy back then—terrified of nightmares. Not anymore. Familiarity bred contempt. Nightmares forced recall of the unwanted; that scared me once. Now, forgetting what I wanted to remember terrified me more.
"...People can't stay the same forever."
[At least soften your words, hmm?]
"I'll try. Anyway, why're you here?"
[Don't you remember? We contracted last time—in exchange for my aid.]
Then it hit me: the practical exam, when she'd helped. Technically Kim Jin-seo, but she'd met my request regardless. We'd sealed a pact, but I'd skipped the fine print on what it entailed.
"This is what the contract meant?"
[Yes, little one. Your subconscious beyond the nightmares no longer sates me—you've grown numb. So, I'm tweaking how I take tribute.]
"Wait... So you'll stick around like this?"
[If duty calls to aid you, I'll revert briefly. Otherwise, this form suits.]
"......Great."
Dorm snake-pet legal? Hell, could Romanica faithful even own snakes?
Meanwhile, Damballa writhed her slender form up my flowerpot. Granbwa's frantic voice echoed in my head.
[St-stop her! Quick! The pot'll fall!]
"Damballa. Granbwa says stay off."
[Granbwa? Ignore that worrywart.]
[Ah, nooo! Any higher and it topples!]
[Heed me not, little one. Trust yours truly.]
"......"
I ignored both, silently watching Damballa climb. Imagining endless bickering with Granbwa already gave me a headache. And she clashed with Baron Samedi too—unilaterally, but still.
Amid their voices, Legba's soft chuckle.
[Told you summoning Damballa was a mistake.]
"Who saw this coming?"
Should've skipped the contract. Lesson learned: read the fine print.